Page:The Queens Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems, 1852, Cambridge edition.djvu/45

 Soon came the woeful news abroad,
 * To arms all nations flew,

Four mighty armies did they raise,
 * The death-fight to renew.

On their right wing the Tatars rush’d,
 * And hurl’d themselves with might,

As a black cloud, that threats with hail
 * The fruitful fields to smite,

E’en so was heard the Tatar foe,
 * Thick swarming for the fight.

With speed do the Hungarians
 * Collect in companies,

With speed they arm themselves, and go
 * To meet their enemies.

But all in vain their courage was,
 * Vain all their manliness,

All, all in vain their efforts brave;
 * Upon their centre press

The Tatars, break their ranks, and all
 * Their num’rous host doth flee;

The Tatars all things devastate,
 * That in the land there be.

All hope the Christians doth forsake,
 * Had been such sorrow never;

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